it will shock you how much this didn't happen
by NomadicQuill
Summary: Cameron muses over a few moments with House that "didn't happen."


Title: it will shock you how much this didn't happen

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Adult Situations

Word Count:

Spoilers: Possibly some for Season 6 ep Lockdown

Summary: Cameron muses over a few moments with House that "didn't happen."

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Author's Note: First I wanna give a big HUZZAH! My writer's block is over! Anyway, so I was reading Mad Men and Philosophy and was struck by the line (the title of this fic) that Don Draper gives Peggy Olson to help her move past "the issue." For days I just could not get it out of my head and how it would fit a possible secret moment, or moments, between House and Cameron. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

In the beginning, there was an interview and a question.

"Do you wear flats because it gives you feet a break after working all night as a dominatrix?" House asked.

"I heard this interview might be bizarre," Cameron replied and smoothed down her skirt under House's stare.

"Do you like bizarre?" House asked, and propped his feet onto the desk, his tone bordering on indecent. Next to him, Wilson glared at House and straightened the papers in what she assumed was her folder.

"I like bizarre," she said and brought her eyes from her hands to his face. He stared back, as if he were staring her down and she willed herself not to look away. After a moment, he smiled, took her folder from Wilson and set it behind himself, away from the blue stack in front of him.

When she met Chase and he asked about the interview, she told him she felt she was hired because of her resume.

Chase had snorted and shook his head.

_Several years and one hospital lockdown later..._

A bell jingled as she entered and House turned, locking eyes with her from the bar. Surprised, she hesitated and wondered if coming to Sherry's was such a good idea. She unwound her scarf while she debated some more until a waitress walked by with a beer. A foaming, golden brown beer in a glass, condensation sliding down the glass. Then she remembered she needed to exorcise emotionally-draining-break-up-sex more than she needed to avoid House. She opened her coat, let her scarf hang and trudged towards the bar, signaling for a beer when she arrived.

"I was told, on good authority, that you avoided this bar," she said. Her beer arrived and the bartender grabbed a glass but she waved him off. House's eyes widened appreciatively, then he turned back to the scotch glass in front of him. She noticed he still had a finger-width of liquor left.

"And I was told, on good authority, you were never coming back," House said and picked up his glass, turning it and setting it down repeatedly.

"I needed a signature." She took a swig from the bottle.

He nodded and threw the drink back.

"Should you be drinking?" she asked. She looked at her bottle as she said it and picked at the label but from the side of her eye, she saw him point into his glass and nod at the bartender.

"Don't need a another babysitter," he said.

"Depends on how drunk you wanna get," she said. "Do you have a ride?"

He sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "I thought you didn't love me anymore?"

People turned but House ignored them. Cameron blushed and tried to cover it with a forced chuckle.

"I don't," she said.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Got bumped from my flight."

"So you had a hankerin' to drown your sorrows?" he asked and turned towards her.

She shifted, leaning against the counter's edge. "Is that why you're here?"

"Don't turn this around. You suck at it," he said and turned back to his drink.

They fell silent. The sounds of pool balls clinking and the hum of other conversations slipped between them and Cameron wondered if she should just leave right now.

"I'll make a deal with you," she said. "Let me give you a ride home without questioning my motives and I won't tell Wilson where I found you."

"What do you get out of it?" he asked.

"Saving you saves other lives."

"And what do I get?"

"A free pass to get as drunk as you want."

House downed his drink again and Cameron watched his adam's apple bob up and down. She took a big gulp of her beer and felt a warmth spread through her chest.

"If you were this good at negotiating when you worked for me, you'd have had a better chance at nailing me," he said.

Cameron choked and sputtered, spraying a few drops on the bar. House grinned.

Later, in the back of a cab and parked in front of Wilson's building, House stared up at what she assumed was their window. They had been sitting in silence for five minutes before House spoke.

"I watched a patient die tonight," he said. "During the lock down, I got stuck with a guy who came to me for help earlier and I turned him down."

Her eyes widened but she pressed her lips together, knowing he didn't want her to speak. He kept staring at the building. A window glowed near the top levels.

"I saw his file a week ago and I turned him down because it was too easy," he said and rubbed his thigh while he talked. "I never thought those other monkeys with PhDs wouldn't be able to guess it in time."

Cameron folded her hands in her lap and turned towards House until her knee touched his.

"My hotel has a 24-hour jacuzzi," she said.

He turned to her and raised his eyebrow. "I'm not that drunk, Cameron." He didn't move his leg.

She laughed softly. "It's for your leg. I'll just be going to bed. I've got an early flight tomorrow."

He looked back up at the building and they watched a silhouette come near the window, pause and the light died.

"Hotel it is," he said and pulled out his phone. "Oh, and you're paying for room service."

"Don't tell Wilson you're with me," she said.

He narrowed his eyes, curious but closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

Her words were the last uttered for the rest of the night. They arrived at the hotel, she went to bed and he grabbed a towel and went downstairs to the jacuzzi.

The next morning when she awoke, disoriented but clothed, next to House, she gathered her things quietly and left him with a kiss on the cheek.

In the lobby she decided to arrange a ten a.m. wake-up call.

In the end, there is a signature and the chance to emerge from his shadow.

"'This didn't happen," House says and signs a typed letter with a small flourish. "Foreman will be PMS-ing for months if he ever finds out." He folds the paper twice horizontally, then begins rooting around his shelves for an envelope.

"Under your computer," Cameron says then sits down on his couch. "Plus he doesn't know I'm applying," she adds, stretching out in her jeans and a vintage Queen T-shirt. The shades are closed and everyone is gone for the night, which is the reason why she chose this moment to ask him to sign a recommendation-that she wrote herself-for a head of diagnostics job in New York.

"You're learning," House says, stuffing her letter into an envelope. He comes around his desk and leans against the front, smiling a little fondly.

She holds out her hand but he shakes his head and crooks his finger. She huffs but hauls herself up anyway and moves to stand in front of him, still holding out her hand. He looks down at her with that grin he used to have when he knew he was making her nervous. She swallows but holds her ground.

She reaches for the envelope but he jerks it back, holding it out of her reach. She tries again and he holds it over their heads. She crosses her arms.

Smirking, he takes her hand, turns it palm up and places the envelope on it. "Bring honor to the House name."

She looks down and can't hold back the smile that breaks across her face. She turns to pick up her purse when his voice stops her.

"You're not going to ask why I'm doing this?"

She pauses, then turns back to him. "I did you a favor once and you just returned it," she looks at the envelope in her hand. "With flying colors too." She meets his eyes. "That's all I need to know."

The old Cameron would have asked for a hug or did something incredibly sappy, but the new Cameron, at least the Cameron she's becoming, decides not to bother with the normal social contract. This Cameron leans over and rests her arms around his shoulders, pulling him slightly closer to her height and resting her cheek on his chest, facing his neck. She feels him freeze for a moment...then two...then three and his arms come around her waist, one of his palms resting flat on her lower back and the other slightly above it. He presses her close, briefly.

"Thank you," she whispers against his neck.

"Don't mention it," he replies

Then they both drop their arms and step back.

In New York, on her first day, she gets ten colleagues who ask what House is really like. None of them believe her when she replies, "Everything you've heard is true."


End file.
